


It's My Happy Place

by piginapoketuesday



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Intimacy, M/M, Torture, metatron is an asshole, tw: torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-24
Updated: 2015-03-23
Packaged: 2018-03-19 08:52:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3604011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piginapoketuesday/pseuds/piginapoketuesday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel and Sam have yet to find Dean after he disappeared with Crowley. Metatron has Castiel bound in Heaven and is torturing him for kicks. Sam heals Castiel, and things get a little heated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's My Happy Place

Castiel could not even lift his chin for the knife.

“Come, now, Asstiel. What’s a little blood for a warrior like you?” Metatron drew the point of his angel blade over the curve of his captive’s throat. The wound glowed blue for an instant before receding to an inky red that dripped down his neck and bare chest.

Castiel’s vessel was an intricate map of bloody slices. Stripped of all but his trousers, Metatron had spent a few quality hours carving his chest, face, arms, back, and throat. All in the name of revenge, Castiel supposed.

“Tell me, how tickled are you that my blade isn’t trailing over a Winchester’s flesh right now?” He flicked the younger angel’s shoulder with his weapon, crossing an existing cut.

“Thrilled,” Castiel spat, breathlessly and through his teeth. He meant it, his fists clenching at the thought of this pain settling in Sam or Dean’s skin.

Metatron smiled. “I like thinking about you here.” He tipped Castiel’s head back with his hand and used his thumb to press deeply on his wounded throat. “It’s my . . . happy place.”

Cas spluttered and choked on his own blood, trying to wrench out of Metatron’s grip.

“It’s a shame you’re in too much anguish to appreciate the irony of this moment.”

“Let him go, Metatron.”

Castiel shut his eyes as his torturer released him and turned toward the voice of Sam Winchester.

“Sam! Lovely seeing you here. Where’s your lummox of a brother?”

Sam’s face was a mask of steel.

“Ah, yes. I gutted him. Good times.”

“Let Castiel go. You’ve had your fun.”

Metatron cocked his head to the side. “Oh, you see, I really haven’t. I’m only getting started. Perhaps you’d like to join him?”

“No!” Cas yelled, brokenly.

The scribe snapped his fingers and Castiel screamed, writhing against his bonds as each of his wounds gushed fresh blood.

“Enough!” Sam begged, fists clenched at his sides.

Almost immediately, Cas breathed a sigh of relief.

“Here’s the deal, Sammy. I’ve worked up an appetite. So you clean and heal him, or leave him to bleed, I don’t care. And I’ll be back to eviscerate the both of you in a few hours. Yes?” He tossed Sam a thin, silver container. “Fantastic. See you soon, boys.”

Sam blinked and he was gone.

The youngest Winchester didn’t miss a beat. He rushed to kneel at Castiel’s side and opened the container. Inside was a thick, filmy substance, like Vaseline. “I don’t know if this is going to hurt or not. I’m sorry.” He dipped two fingers into the salve and gently wiped them over a small gash in Castiel’s shoulder. The angel winced, then moaned.

Sam withdrew. “Did that sting?”

“For a minute,” Cas breathed, “Then the pain was gone completely.” He tipped his head back. “Please. Please. More.”

Sam set to work. He began with his friend’s abdomen and stomach, hoping to make his breathing less labored. After he had coated a few dozen cuts, he noticed tears in Castiel’s eyes. “Am I hurting you?”

“No, it’s relief. Thank you.”

Sam’s eyes narrowed in sympathy. He dragged two fingers down the column of Castiel’s throat. His groan was guttural and accompanied an uncomfortable stiffening between his legs. Sam continued, curious. He massaged the salve into every inch of the angel’s neck, watching as the gashes healed and disappeared into supple flesh.

Cas closed his eyes, trying to ignore the stirring in his groin at Sam’s touch.

Sam eyed the bare skin and suddenly craved to taste it. Carefully, he applied the odd substance to his lips and raised himself to be level with a nasty wound in Castiel’s cheek. He kissed.

Cas gasped, the pain fading with every move of his friend’s soft mouth. “Sam—”

“Tell me if you want me to stop.”

Pause.

“I don’t want you to stop.”

Sam tilted the angel’s chin up and pressed their mouths together. Castiel opened his lips and let Sam in, enjoying the human taste and scent that filled his senses. 

Dipping his fingers into the container once more, Sam touched along the bloody shoulders, healing as he went. Castiel tasted like mint. He craved to bite at the fervent lips but resisted, considering the pain the angel had just been through. Instead, he let his fingers play at his friend’s freshly healed throat and chest, enjoying the moans that vibrated into his mouth.

Slowly, Sam worked his way into straddling Castiel. He fondled the bulge in the black trousers and ran his long fingers through dark brown hair. “I want to take off your pants.”

“Okay,” Castiel agreed, breathless. He was still tied to Metatron’s torture chair. He felt deft fingers at his crotch, unzipping his trousers and yanking them down his legs. A massive hand touched his erection through the cloth of his boxer-briefs. He swallowed. “Sam, please.”

Sam lowered his mouth to the bulge and suckled, wetting the fabric lewdly. “I can’t wait to taste.” Gingerly, he slid the underwear off of his partner and watched Castiel’s cock rise between his legs.

He carefully gripped the base and bent to suck at the dripping head.

The door opened.

Sam’s heart stopped, and he felt every inch of his skin break into a cold sweat. The things Metatron could do to them . . . in this position . . .

“I . . . I . . . Castiel, what are you doing?” Hannah’s voice made his whole body slump in relief. He looked up and smirked at Cas’s flushed cheeks.

“We were—um—”

“Being intimate. Sorry you had to see that. Could you help with his restraints?” Sam’s neck was blushing a bit, but he never let embarrassment show on his face as he began to redress his friend.

“Yes, I believe so.” She awkwardly moved behind Castiel and whispered a phrase in Enochian, effectively freeing his hands.

Cas stood and looked at Hannah. “Thank you.”

“Can you get us out of here?” Sam asked, touching Castiel’s shoulder.

She nodded and smiled, snapping her fingers. “Goodbye.”

***

Cas and Sam found themselves in the Bunker, far from Heaven and Metatron’s torture.

Sam looked at Castiel, with his bare chest and unzipped trousers, and had to ask. “Want to pick up where we left off?”  
Castiel smiled.


End file.
